


The Promise of Gold

by Lthien



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Achilles cuts his hair, Dead Patroclus, Funeral, M/M, The Song of Achilles - Freeform, achilles is BEYOND a mess, the illiad, tsoa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:53:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8778451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lthien/pseuds/Lthien
Summary: "I did not want this. This is not part of the promise. This is not the gold I want." Where Achilles cuts his hair to give to Patroclus...and I made myself sad. :(





	

**Author's Note:**

> A part of my Patrochilles Drabbles! :)

Blond hair falls in ragged strands. I reach for them, my fingers like smoke. They fall with ease, past my shade and onto the earth that does not deserve them. The blade is as relentless as the man holding it. I wish it to stop. _Achilles_ , I beg. _Achilles. Achilles_. My pleas are unheard in the darkness. I sit with him in the sand, cold, waiting for the promise he made…The promise of gold. Achilles’s fingers are entwined in what is left of his golden hair, his tears mixing with the salt of the sea. I watch him, his head low in a grief beyond measure. I did not want this. This is not part of the promise. This is not the gold I want.

I stand when he does. I walk the same slow path, my shade forever his—forever by his side. As he reaches the pyre I too look upon the ashen corpse. My body is wrapped in linen, and scattered with flowers. The petals, pink and red are a shock against my gray skin. They too shall burn. I watch Achilles as I did in life as he takes my limp hand and places long golden strands between my fingers.

My gold. My Achilles.

He then kisses cold lips, pure and uncaring of the eyes that watch him. The men of the earth have felt the pain of my passing, as have the Gods above it. There has been a tear in fate, Achilles destroying it with his own hands. His nose bumps mine, golden tears dancing upon his long lashes. They slide down my sallow cheeks as his warmth leaves, the hand gifted with gold tucked close to an un-beating heart.

I press my face into his neck, silent as he extends one shaking hand to Briseis. She stands solemn, her face tearstained and ruined. Two coins are placed in Achilles’s hand, and I cling to the promise dearly. _Soon_ , the gold tells me as it is placed over my eyes one-by-one with shaking fingers. I want to kiss them in gratitude. Instead I press a whisper of a kiss against my dearest heart’s wet cheek. _Thank you. Thank you_.

I wrap my arms around his neck as he takes hold of the torch given to him. I whisper my love endlessly into his ear, my soul heavy with need. As the flames lick the straw I find peace. For the first time I can feel something. I am drawn away from Achilles gradually. With every blade lit, I am forced another step back into the body that once held me.

Achilles is restrained as he tries to follow after me. Not yet. Not yet. As I leave the earth, I see his mouth cry out my name, _Pat-ro-clus_. The promise has been full-filled. I smile.


End file.
